The Course of True Love by Jayel

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The Course of True Love (3/14)
by Jayel

Yale's relief at finally receiving his turn behind the wheel of the transrover was two-fold. One, his feet hurt--the pace Devon had set was grueling enough for him to be glad no one in the group but he was likely to have heard of the Bataan Death March. Two, the vehicle's cockpit provided the best seat in the house for the soap opera that was currently Eden Advance. Everyone seemed to be experiencing some sort of domestic upset, from the anxiety of impending parenthood to the trauma of planning a wedding. At first Yale had been concerned about this, especially considering the nearness of the long winter which would likely be spent in close quarters. But a private scan of some of the sociological data in his memory had revealed that such conflicts were not only natural but inevitable in any group of this size. Once the group-wide conflicts with "natural predators" like EVE had been eliminated at least temporarily, it was only a matter of time before internal conflicts were raised and bandied about. He just hoped everyone could get their individual sleeping arrangements worked out before the snow fell.

Magus was sitting in what True called the "shotgun seat" beside him, obviously wrestling with some sort of emotional turmoil, and he noticed both Walman and Baines casting surreptious glances in her direction from two different points along the caravan--glances which Marcia rather pointedly ignored.

At the front of the procession trudged John Danziger, a load far more taxing than his backpack pushing him forward and weighing him down. His apparent anxiety--expressed in a tendency to growl at his companions and break everything he touched to bits--had at first been inexplicable even to a man with all of recorded history in his memory banks. But then Yale noticed a pattern. Every time Devon Adair came near the mechanic--which was often--John's growl got deeper, but his frown disappeared into a gentle grin usually accompanied by an equally tender touch of her hair or shoulder or hand, a touch which never failed to elicit a reciprocal smile and blush from Devon. To Yale's mind, this was as it should be and not at all unusual--indeed, this sort of thing had been going on at some level since the crash. So what was bothering Danziger? What was the new element?

The answer wasn't long in coming. Tara Donahoe, walking at a surprisingly chipper clip beside Julia's 'rail, suddenly laughed, and Danziger flinched like he'd been bludgeoned in the back of the head before turning around to glare at True who didn't see him because she was turned around from her perch on the other 'rail grinning at Tara. Oh dear, Yale thought with an inward sigh, watching Tara scuffle playfully with Alonzo as if loathe to give up her spot beside the doctor. He had noticed a new spring in Tara's step of late, and he had accidentally overheard Bess gossiping to Magus about a "crush" Tara supposedly had on one of the members of Eden Advance, but he hadn't thought of John. In truth, he had been rather worried that the object of the girl's affections might be Julia, a possibility that didn't bother him overmuch, aside from Alonzo's feelings, but which he hadn't relished explaining to Walman or Morgan or even Bess. But apparently the lucky crushee was John Danziger, and apparently he not only knew it, it was driving him crazy. The only good point Yale could glean from his continued surveillance was that Devon apparently didn't have a clue. The worst point was that Tara apparently did and was enjoying it to the fullest. Every time Danziger looked her way, she noticed, even when her head was turned toward Julia, and a grin which could most charitably be described as impish lit up her face--a grin he was dismayed to see was more often than not cast sidelong at Devon. A grin which reminded him of nothing so much as her look of triumph the first time she thought she had beaten Reilly. Devon, I'm afraid you may have an enemy, he thought to himself, a thought which worried him more than he cared to admit.

His fears weren't long in being realized. Just after noon, John and Baines called the caravan to a halt and summoned the rest of the group forward. Off to the left about a hundred yards ahead was the beginning of a strip of bare, blackened ground in the middle of the forest, about ten yards wide and ending somewhere beyond the horizon. "What the hell is that?" Danziger demanded, staring through his jumpers. "I can't see the end of it . . . "

"It looks like somebody crashed some kind of spacecraft," Alonzo offered, joining him.

"Not crashed," Tara admitted with a grin. "Just sort of landed real hard." Everyone turned to look at her. "That's where I brought in Renaldi's rocket the first time," she explained. "It goes about ten miles further that way."

"Very smooth, Donahoe," Alonzo teased.

"Yeah, well, I was still half asleep," she said defensively, still smiling. "Shoot, Val was still *all* asleep . . . of course, he woke up in a hurry . . . "

"Yeah, I'll bet," Baines laughed. "What with those burning trees going by and all."

"Exactly," Tara agreed. "If we go to the end of the strip, you can see our first camp. We left some stuff there in ground lockers, non-essentials."

"Anything we can use?" Danziger asked without lowering his jumpers.

"I don't know," she admitted. "We took the actual survival gear with us, of course." A strange look passed over her face, and she glanced back at Julia with a grin. "There is one thing, though, something I think I need. We should be able to get there and back fairly quickly."

"Wait a minute," Devon objected. "You're saying it's ten miles--that's ten miles out of our way, at least half a day wasted--no, a whole day, because whoever goes will have to come back."

"Devon," Yale began, trying to send his former pupil a warning look.

"Only if we walk," Tara said, turning on her coolly. "One of the rails could easily make it in an afternoon."

"That's still an afternoon we can't afford to lose, particularly on something you've already classified as 'non-essential'," Devon answered in her usual decisive tone. "What is it you wanted?"

"I hardly think that's any of your business," Tara replied, a challenging look coming into her eyes.

"Devon, perhaps Tara and Alonzo could take one of the 'rails, get the items Tara requires, then intercept us further along our own course," Yale sugggested.

"No," Devon said, for once meeting the other woman's blue-eyed challenge with one of her own. "We have no idea how long a side-trip might take, and those rails are loaded with necessary supplies. I'm sorry, Tara, but we simply cannot waste the time and resources at this point, not with the winter coming on so quickly."

Anyone who didn't know Tara might have thought she had accepted this refusal gracefully--her coloring didn't change by a shade, and her smile never wavered. Unfortunately, everyone in the Eden Project except Devon had seen the glow in her eyes at least one too many times before to ignore it now. "Head for cover," Alonzo advised Walman under his breath, only half-joking.

"Fine," Tara said sweetly. "You're right, Devon--and after all, you're the boss." She reached into Julia's 'rail and took out her pack, checking the luma and food supplies before slinging it onto her back. "See you later, Doc," she said, kissing Julia's cheek.

"What do you think you're doing?" Danziger demanded. "If you think we're going to let you go off by yourself--"

"And how do you propose to stop me?" she retorted. "Devon's right; what I want from my personal belongings is of no great consequence to the almighty Eden Project as a whole; therefore, it is unreasonable of me to assume Eden Project resources should be *wasted* on my petty little wants."

"Tara . . . ," Devon began in the tone she had perfected trying to cut Danziger off at the pass.

"I, however, am not technically a member of the Eden Advance Team and am therefore not subject to the rulings of the group as a democracy or Miss Adair as queen," Tara continued. "I want my stuff, and I'm going to get it."

"Alonzo, go with her," Julia urged, still hoping to make some semblance peace before a simple dispute erupted into a catfight.

"No one has to go with me--I don't *want* anyone to go with me," Tara said. "Besides, you need 'Zo here with you. I'll catch up inside of two days, I promise."

"On foot?" Julia asked doubtfully. "I don't see how--"

"Tara, I simply cannot allow this," Devon began.

"Listen, Adair, one more word about what you will or will not 'allow' from me and I'm going to knock you on your skinny, rich ass," Tara said, her full fury coming out at last. "You may have paid everybody else's way here, but you didn't pay mine, and I don't have to hear it."

"All right, enough!" John roared, turning around at last. "One more word out of you, Donahoe, and I'll give you something a lot more pressing to worry about than whatever you've got stashed in a ground locker," he warned, stepping in front of Devon and giving Tara a look that would bruise lead. Ignoring the shocked looks of the rest of the group, he grabbed another pack from the 'rail in one hand and Tara's wrist in the other. "Now come on," he grumbled. "Devon, we'll be back day after tomorrow."

"*You're* going with her?" Devon asked incredulously.

"She's right, Dev; we can't stop her," he said in a slightly more gentle tone, letting Tara go to take Adair aside. "And if she goes out and gets shot by a ZED or knocked in the head and dragged off by a convict, not only are several of us going to feel just awful, all of us are going to develop a powerful headache."

"And I'm just supposed to be okay with this?" Devon asked.

He grinned. "Of course not," he said, giving her chin a nudge. "You're supposed to be crazed with jealousy."

"You are the most--"

"Devon!" He glanced back at the rest of the group, giving the snickering Alonzo a dirty glare. "You're supposed to trust me," he said, meeting her eyes.

"Oh, I trust you, all right," she said, giving in. "But Tara? No way."

End of Part 3

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